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Nerves jolted through me. “Stop what?”

“Walking on eggshells.”

I turned to face him. “I’m not walking on eggshells.”

“Then why did you just act like you were getting burned touching me?”

“I didn’t—” I took a breath, facing forward again.

Blake kept his eyes on me. “Why do you shut down after laughing at something I say, like you can’t be happy around me?”

So he’d noticed. He’d felt it too. But just as quickly as I felt the shock of his response, an angry heat ran through me. “Because,” I said, not daring to look at him. “We agreed we’d keep things professional.” I was unable to keep my feelings from my voice, though I kept the volume low.

All attention was focused on Jude. Still, we were very public.

“Wearekeeping things professional,” Blake said. “It’s not a crime to touch each other.”

Heat simmered in my chest. He was upset with me because I was being careful? What did he expect? I reached up and put a hand on my neck as if I could physically keep myself calm. “I can’t just ‘be natural’ around you,” I said, “laugh whenever I want to.”

“Why not?”

The heat exploded, and I turned on him. I tried to keep the words in, but they flew out of me in a rapid-fire whisper-yell. “Because if I let myself be the way I want to around you, it would be too easy for us to slip into something that would be devastating for both of us. Don’t you remember how panicked you were when you thought we—”

The woman in front of us had turned and was eyeing us both. I shot her a look; she startled and faced forward again.

I pulled him back a few feet and lowered my voice to a softer whisper. “When you thought we’d slept together? You were horrified. So I don’t know why you’re being so cavalier about this. Maybe it seems like fun now, but it wouldn’t be. Not if anyone found out. Both our businesses wouldcollapse,Blake, and Lila—”

“Okay,” he said. “You’re right.”

But he wouldn’t look away. When I dared a quick look at him, he didn’t look sorry, either. He looked like he was barely containing his own anger. A hot, tense beat passed.

“I wasn’t horrified about the idea of sleeping with you, Cassandra,” he said.

I said nothing, just looked forward at the crowd. I was mortified to feel my eyes burning with hot tears, the crowd blurring.

I blinked rapidly, willing them to disappear.

Then, of all things, Blake’s hand brushed against mine once more.

I looked at him, incredulous. No one would see what he was doing. Only I could feel the touch of his finger against the back of my hand. My stomach jolted with as much adrenaline as if he’d leaned forward to kiss me.

Because that’s what you really want him to do, isn’t it?

His eyes stayed on mine, their caramel color seeming to darken as he stroked the back of my hand with his knuckle. Somehow, the touch, innocent as it was, was deeply intimate. Erotic, even. Liquid heat poured into my lower abdomen. It wasn’t that moment between us when I’d surprised him with his lost fishing rod that changed everything, I realized. That was the catalyst maybe, the spark. But this—this was the fuel. A test. A dare, to pull away.

A challenge.

Move it away.

But I didn’t. My eyelids fluttered as he stroked at the side of my palm, the sensitive nerve endings there snapping and fizzing.

I imagined his finger stroking other parts of my skin. Warmer, wetter parts.

My center throbbed with heat and I swallowed, my mouth, in contrast, bone dry.

But then applause rang out—thunderous, across the whole group, and I slipped my hand away, smoothing down my blazer.

Jude spotted us then, waving. “Sorry ladies, duty calls. It was a dream talking to you.”